


no one's gonna love you (like we love you)

by dustofwarfare



Series: come aboard (let's go dreaming) [4]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Multi, POLY!FIC, Poly V, Voyeurism, threesome kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: Seifer examines it for a minute, the broken thing inside of him. He knows it’s still there, that despite her attempts it always will be. And he still thinks it’s the price he should pay for the things he did in his Sorceress’s name.But for the first time he thinks that maybe it doesn’t have to hurt.Seifer, Squall and Rinoa visit Esthar, so Squall can introduce Seifer to Laguna as his boyfriend instead of his enemy.





	no one's gonna love you (like we love you)

**Author's Note:**

> This took me a long time to write, and it went through a lot of changes -- I cut a few scenes to make it more cohesive, which means that the alternating POV is not in a consistent pattern (which will likely...not bother anyone but me, LOL). 
> 
> There is also a threesome in this fic -- kinda. It's more Squall/Rinoa and Seifer/Squall with some exhibition and voyeurism thrown in for fun. This fic has been a joy to write, and I will straight-up say it was totally self-indulgent of me but I regret nothing. Not even the cuddling and the banter :D 
> 
> This is still a poly!V, but I wanted to write something sexy and fun with all three. Hopefully I've achieved that! 
> 
> The titles from this series are taken from the song "Dreamboat 730" by Ringside. It's such a perfect song <33

No One’s Gonna Love You (Like We Love You)

Rinoa is surprised when she walks out of a meeting to find Seifer waiting for her, one booted foot propped up against the wall behind him as he glances down at his phone.

“Hey, Almasy.” She walks up to him, careful to keep her distance. She still remembers that horrible moment when she hugged him and he stared at her like she was a monster.

 “Hey, Heartilly.” He moves away from the wall and shoves his phone in his back pocket.

“Something up?”

“Squall wants me to go with you two to Esthar.” He starts walking and she matches his stride, noticing with amusement the looks people are giving them. She wonders how long it will be before the rumors start up that Squall’s girlfriend is cheating on him with his boyfriend.

“Do you think you can?”

“I could,” Seifer says, looking down at her. “Except for the part that they’ll put me to death if I enter the country.”

“Oh!” Rinoa blinks. “Well, I’m sure Squall will tell his father you’re coming and that they shouldn’t, um, arrest you and can they _do_ that without a fair trial?” Her eyes narrow. “I’ll be having a talk with Laguna about that, because it’s wrong.”

“I’m maybe exaggerating a tiny bit,” Seifer says.

“About which part?”

“Well, I’m technically not allowed to enter the country, so I just figured the penalty would be that I got shot the second someone recognized me.”

“But you don’t know that for sure,” she presses.

“Well, no, I didn’t ask for a definition of _never set foot in Esthar, you’re a war criminal_ ,” Seifer says. “Pretty self-explanatory, yeah?”

She wonders if it bothers him. Probably not. Seifer’s pathological need for attention and adoration is something she’s not sure will ever go away. “Well, did you tell Squall that?”

Seifer shrugs. “I would have, but he asked me about this trip via text message and it was basically just the word ‘Esthar’ and some dates. I hate sending text messages so I figured I’d mention it when he gets back. Wanted to check with you first, though. See if I should even bother or what.”

“Well, I mean. Yes, I think it’s probably a good idea that you tell Squall because if you were gunned down in front of him he’d probably start a war, and I think that might put a damper on his relationship with his father.”

“Squall wouldn’t start a war for me,” Seifer huffs. “He’d just put my head in his lap while I lay bleeding out on the ground, promising to eventually get my name cleared and lecturing me about not noticing someone in my blindspot.”

She laughs, but he’s wrong – not about the blind spot lecture, but Squall would react very, _very_ badly to anyone who hurt Seifer.  “So what you’re asking me is, do I think you should come with us?”

“That’d be what I’m asking, yeah.”

“Aren’t you like, dying to meet Squall’s dad?” Rinoa bats her eyelashes. “Being that you’re his biggest fan and all?”

“So glad Squall shared that with you,” Seifer mutters, looking thoroughly disgruntled.  

“It wasn’t Squall,” she assures him. “Quistis remembered that from when you were kids. And I mean, come on. Laguna’s hot. Even my mom thought so, apparently.”

“Yeah, you’re sure you’re not related?”

Rinoa wants to slug him in the shoulder, but she’s still not sure about touching him after that incident with the hugging. Honestly, it wasn’t just how it affected Seifer, either. Feeling that dark, dank _hole_ where his bond used to be made everything inside of her twist up in revulsion.

“Seifer, are you asking me if I’m going to be annoyed if you come to Esthar?”

“I’m asking you because maybe you two need some time together, okay? Just because I’m not making shared calendars –”

“You can’t make one if you don’t know how to _use_ one –”

“Doesn’t mean I’m terrible at this sharing thing, unless you’re saving up a whole bunch of complaints to throw at me in which case, no thanks, I’ll stay home.”

She smiles despite herself, and watches as he reaches up and absently plays with the Griever pendant Squall gave him. “Seifer, If I want to take a trip with Squall, just the two of us…uh, it won’t be to Esthar. You’re a war criminal, I’m a Sorceress and Squall’s a Knight. It’s not like it’s a relaxing getaway.”

“Squall needs to actually know how to relax for that to ever happen,” Seifer reminds her.

“Speaking of, he’s going to be late getting back from Galbadia.”  She doesn’t really need to say anything else. Squall _hates_ administrative trips to Galbadia.

“Feel free to send him to my place if he’s in a bad mood,” Seifer says, a small little smile curling up the edge of his mouth.  “You know I like a challenge.”

***

 _Squall Leonhart, incoming_ Rinoa’s text reads. _Send him back in the morning w/some bacon xoxo_

Seifer rolls his eyes, but he puts his phone away and waits for Squall to show up. Of course he’s going to be in a bad mood, it’s pissing rain outside, cold, and Squall had to deal with Galbadia.

Squall is a very, very good mercenary.  But asking him to make speeches and attend committee meetings is like asking a chocobo to pilot a spaceship. An angry chocobo who wants to claw your eyes out.

Squall shows up dripping wet and shivering. He fixes Seifer with a flat look that says _I hate everything right now_ as he drops his bag.

Seifer can deal with this, no problem.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” Seifer says. He might sound sarcastic when he uses the endearment, but he always means it.  “Take your clothes off, Leonhart. You’re shivering.”

Squall shrugs out of his coat and drops it on the floor. The simple gesture is practically a temper tantrum for Squall. “Hyne damn fucking Galbadia. You couldn’t’ve shot some missiles at _them_?”

If Squall’s ever made a joke about Seifer’s nefarious past, Seifer can’t recall when that might be.

“I’m going to pretend you never said that.” Seifer crosses over to him and reaches out to push Squall’s dark, wet hair out of his face.

There’s ice in it, and Seifer shakes his head because sure, it’s November and that means rain, but the ice is all Shiva so that’s really Squall’s fault. “What is _wrong_ with you? Don’t junction the ice goddess in the rain, you forget how chemistry works?”

Squall’s eyes narrow, and he looks….well, like he’s tired and cold, he’s possibly the most dangerous man in the world but right now he looks a little like a cranky cat someone dropped in a bathtub. Seifer sees Squall’s gaze slide down from Seifer’s face and lower, to where Seifer is playing with the Griever pendant.

Some of the chill eases from Squall’s expression. He blinks, sighs, then moves in and grabs at Seifer’s shirt like he can’t decide if he wants a hug or to fight. “Today sucked.”

“I’m getting that impression, yeah.” Seifer watches Squall pull off his gloves, then makes an undignified sound when Squall slides his cold hands up Seifer’s shirt. “Or you could take a shower first, asshole, so your hands don’t feel like ice cubes. You ever consider buying a coat that isn’t a crop top?”

"Nope." 

Squall strips until he’s wearing nothing but his combat boots and his tight black boxer briefs. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks defiant for no reason, which maybe means he’s been hanging out with Seifer too much. What a delightful thought that is.

“C’mon, Ice Prince. Let’s get you clean so we can get dirty.”

Squall huffs but he follows Seifer into the bathroom. Seifer turns on the water, waiting until it steams, then grabs Squall by the back of the neck and shoves Squall into the shower, still clad in his boots and his underwear.

Squall calls him a few choice names and throws his wet underwear _and_ his boots at him, followed immediately by his socks. Seifer pulls his own clothes off and climbs in the shower with him. Squall’s expression says _don’t touch me_ and Seifer doesn’t, just stands there as the steam fills up the small bathroom.  

Squall eventually turns around with his hands on the wall beneath the showerhead, his head bowed as the water rushes over him. Seifer admires the lean, muscular lines of his back and the curve of his ass while he grabs the soap. He runs his hands over all that smooth skin, feeling it gradually begin to warm as the dust and dirt is washed away.

Eventually Squall pulls away and resumes his pose with his hands on the wall and his back to Seifer, this time on the opposite side of the shower. “Seifer. Fuck me.”

Seifer moves and presses up against him, rubbing his hard erection against the curve of Squall’s ass. His hands move up Squall’s water-slick back. “Mmm. I do like when you ask me for it.”

“Then do it.”

Seifer makes a _tsking_ sound. “I think someone needs a reminder that I’m not a cadet or one of your SeeDs. I don’t ask how high when you say jump.”

“You wouldn’t do that even if you _were_ one of my SeeDs or a cadet,” Squall points out, which, true.

“I’ll fuck you, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna do it with you looking at the wall instead of my face.” Seifer narrows his eyes at him.  “And if that’s what you want, then you and your hand can have a party with my shower gel.”

Squall looks annoyed, which Seifer thoroughly enjoys. “It’s not like I’m pretending you’re someone else, you know. I just need to get out of my head.”

“I’ll fuck you out of your head and out of this fucking _world_ , Leonhart, but you’re gonna look at me while I do it.”

“Fine,” Squall says. “Whatever.”  He straightens up and leans around Seifer’s body, reaching for the shower taps.

Seifer gets up his space, shoving at him. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“You’re the one being picky about it,” Squall mutters, but he lets Seifer back him up against the wall again and doesn’t protest when Seifer slides two hands under his ass and lifts him. “It should not turn me on that you can move me around like this.”

“Why not? It turns _me_ on.” Seifer mouths at Squall’s neck, settling between his thighs, enjoying the way their cocks rub together.

“You like me to be weak, yeah, yeah,” Squall mutters. “I get it.”

Seifer lifts his head and stares at him. “You’re so stupid, I can’t believe someone gave you an _army_.”

“They gave _you_ an army,” Squall says. “They gave me a mercenary force.”

“What they should have given you was a clue.” Seifer leans down to kiss his neck again. “You think weakness turns me on, you’re not paying attention.”

“You like the control of moving me around.” Squall’s voice catches, his hands grabbing at Seifer’s shoulders. “Don’t lie.”

“Well, duh. Of course I like that. Because you let me do it.” Seifer licks the water on Squall’s neck.

“You were going to fuck me _today_ , right?”

“You’re a lot mouthier in real life than you were in my fantasies.” Seifer reaches blindly for the slick body gel and hopes that’ll works as far as lube. The bedroom seems very, very far away at this point.

“In _my_ fantasies, you couldn’t say anything because I was choking you with my cock.”

“After dinner,” Seifer says, and that’s the last of their banter. He fucks Squall against the wall and he doesn’t hold back. He keeps a hand in Squall’s hair and he’s glad for the length of it, pulls hard every time Squall starts to go away somewhere in his head.

Seifer’s got a bit of a kink for pain and he likes having his hair pulled for that reason, but that’s not the same thing with Squall. Squall, Seifer is learning, likes to be forced to be in the moment and it’s not necessary to hurt him to do that. All Seifer needs to do is _overwhelm_ him, and that takes intensity, not brutality.

Squall comes just from Seifer fucking him and doesn’t even need a hand on his cock, which makes Seifer feel like he’s won a sparring match. Which means he’s insufferable, probably, because that’s what winning does to him. Squall puts up with it for about six seconds then says, “I’m done here,” and climbs out of the shower.

His neck is bitten up, skin still flushed from their exertions, and he shakes his stupid hair like a dog and gets water all over Seifer’s mirror.

Seifer finishes up in the shower and gets out, uses a towel to dry his hair like a normal person and wraps it around his hips. He gathers up the discarded clothes and boots and goes into the main part of the apartment, to find Squall rummaging through his bag with a scowl.

“All I have in here is my dress uniform.”

Seifer has a brief moment where he considers initiating some kind of elaborate role-play scenario, then decides to save that one for later. He just got Squall out of his Commander-headspace, he’s got no interest in sending him back there. “Borrow something of mine. I’ll clean this stuff.”

Squall nods and heads for the bedroom, and Seifer gathers up all the clothes and boots and carries them to the small washer-and-dryer off the kitchen. Honestly, he might have taken this job just because the apartment came with laundry facilities and saved him from ever going to the laundromat again.

By the time he makes it back to his bedroom, Squall is dressed in a pair of Seifer’s sweatpants and a sweatshirt that’s too big for _Seifer_ so it hangs off one of Squall’s shoulders. Freshly showered and freshly-fucked as he is, his mouth a little swollen, Squall looks like a high-class rentboy. Seifer almost tells him that when he notices what Squall’s looking at in his closet.

“I didn’t know you still had this.”

Seifer shrugs, walking around to stand next to him. “It was the first thing I saved up money for after my pardon.” He watches Squall reach out and rub the white fabric of his old favorite coat between his fingers. "Getting it cleaned up, I mean." 

“Last time I saw you in this, it was a mess. So were you.”

Seifer remembers that better than he’d like to. He’d been just as gray and tattered as the coat. “I don’t wear it that much, but something about having it cleaned up and repaired made me feel better.”

“It’s a badass coat.” Squall draws his fingers over the red cross on the shoulder. “I always meant to ask you what this was.”

“The cross? Oh. It’s the symbol of this order of knights I read about in a book.”

“Which one?”

Seifer clears his throat, suddenly feeling a little silly about admitting this. Weirdly, no one’s ever asked him about the cross before. Figures Squall would be the first. “The Knights of the Blood-Red Sun.”

Squall tilts his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them.”

Seifer smiles without humor. “Because they're not real. The book was fiction.” It occurs to him how often he’s done that, put his faith in things that are made up. Maybe some part of him thought it would be harder to be disappointed that way. How stupid he’d been.

Squall closes the closet door and goes to sit on the bed. “Oh, and by the way. No one is going to shoot you on sight in Esthar. I told Loire that you’re coming and he rescinded your status as a war criminal.”

Well, that’s good to know. “Okay. That mean I can wear my coat?” He’s mostly joking. Mostly.

“Wear whatever you want. I don’t care.” Squall leans back, sprawled on top of Seifer’s neatly-made bed. He yawns, his arms crossed behind his head. “You mind if I stay over?”

“’Course I don’t mind.” Seifer likes how relaxed Squall is, and it’s still a little shocking that he can be like this around Seifer – that Seifer can _make_ him be like this. He wonders sometimes how they were able to go from childhood playmates to rivals to enemies to lovers, and survive it with relatively few scars.

Seifer goes to see if he has anything he can make for dinner, discovers he’s got stuff for spaghetti and starts cooking. Squall either falls asleep or wants some time to himself; Seifer lets him be and prepares the relatively easy meal. Squall shuffles in when he’s pouring the pot of noodles into the colander.

“Smells good. Didn’t know you could cook more things than omelets.” Squall sits on the barstool and finds the newest _Weapons Monthly_ magazine. He props one elbow on the counter and pushes his hair back out of his face with his hand while he reads. In Seifer’s too large sweatshirt with his hair tousled from sleep, he looks younger than he almost ever does.  

It is hard to remember sometimes that they are in their early twenties. Seifer feels like the war aged him at least ten years, and he thinks Squall probably feels the same even though he certainly doesn’t look it. 

“I had to learn how to cook for myself after the war.” Seifer stirs the sauce, then dumps it over the pasta and mixes it together. “No cafeteria around, and I was broke.” He dishes out two bowls, finds some forks, and pushes one of the bowls over toward Squall. He fills up two glasses of water and gives Squall one of those, too.

Squall forks up a bite of his pasta, chewing it slowly. His slate eyes are focused on Seifer’s.

Seifer sighs. “What?”

“Just. You don’t talk about it. What you did after the war, I mean.” Squall takes another bite. “This is good. Rinoa tried to make spaghetti once. Now, it’s what we call ordering a pizza ‘cause that’s what we ended up doing. I didn’t know you could burn pasta noodles.”

“You two are fucking helpless,” Seifer says, sighing. He eats a few bites, wondering if he wants to talk about this. “I don’t talk about it because there’s not much to say. I was angry at the world and I’m lucky Fu and Rai didn’t Haste my ass into the sea.”

“I was mad, too,” Squall says, after a few quiet moments. “I know I didn’t have a right to be, but I was.”

Two years ago, Seifer would have thrown a punch at hearing that. A few months ago, he would have said something scathing. Now, he just shrugs. “It was war, Squall. It fucks everybody up no matter what side you’re on.”

“Yeah. But you’re not supposed to be mad when you win. I just never wanted all of this. The responsibility. The job. It’s like I only got a promotion ‘cause I didn’t die.”

“Field promotion,” Seifer says, dryly, toasting him with his water glass.

Squall makes a soft sound of derision. “I guess. Anyway. Sorry. I hate going to Galbadia.”

“I don’t like it very much, either,” Seifer says. “And if you think they don’t like _you_ there….I think their soldiers use pictures of me for target practice.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. They can’t aim for shit.”

Seifer’s laugh is a tad too close to hysterical. “If they could, you wouldn’t be here.” He can’t believe it when he hears himself say that. What the fuck is wrong with him?

Squall doesn’t look particularly bothered. “You wanted to kill me yourself and you know it. Is there any pasta left?”

Seifer frowns at him. “Don’t think for a second I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“I won’t. But I really want more pasta.”

 Seifer is so annoyed he picks up the magazine and thwaps Squall over the head with it. “Why can’t you just –”  

“Hate you like you want me to?” Squall reaches over with his fork and starts eating the rest of Seifer’s pasta out of his bowl.

 _Yes._ He goes still. Of course he doesn’t want that – does he? Maybe part of him still thinks he deserves it. Scowling, Seifer grabs Squall’s bowl and fills it up with seconds, pushing at him with ill-disguised temper. It takes him a few long seconds of silence before he can speak again.

“Don’t think better of me than I deserve, Squall. I want you to forgive me for what I actually did, not for the more palatable version that isn’t true.”

“I did. Maybe at some point you’ll actually believe it.” Squall slides off the stool and comes around the counter to where Seifer is standing in the kitchen. He bumps Seifer’s shoulder with his own. “Thanks. That was good. I can do the dishes.”

Seifer just stares at him, wanting to ask him how he can do this, forgive Seifer, when Seifer still hasn’t figured out how to forgive himself for a lot of it. “I hate talking about this shit.”

“I think what you hate isn’t talking about it, it’s me hearing it. But I’ll listen.” Squall whisks his bowl away and starts cleaning the dishes. “I hate talking about the war, too.”

“You hate talking about anything,” Seifer grumbles. “So you really do want me to go with you to Esthar?”

“Yeah. If you want.” Squalls separates all the dishes into sizes and lines them up accordingly on the counter, like a little army about to invade the sink.  

“Why?”

“You’re my boyfriend. That means you’re subjected to awkward family dinners like Rinoa.” Squall tosses his hair out of his face. He’s done it at least three times since he started doing the dishes. “But you don’t have to go if you don’t want. And Rinoa said you asked her if it was okay.”

“Yeah, I talked to your better half about it before you got back.” Seifer stands directly behind Squall at the sink, then reaches out and pulls Squall’s hair back and out of his face so the idiot can see. “The things I do for you.”  

“My better third, you mean,” Squall says, scrubbing the colander like it had behemoth guts in it instead of just hot water and pasta.

“Huh?”

“She’s not my better half. She’s my better third.”

“What’s that make me?” Seifer asks, though some of his irritation vanishes at hearing that because that’s apparently what a fucking sap he is for Squall Goddamn Leonhart. “Your worse third?”

“Yup.” Squall tilts his head back to look him in the eye. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it, either.”

Seifer doesn’t even try. He leaves Squall to finish up the dishes and goes into his bedroom, opens the closet and reaches into the pocket of his coat. He finds what he wants and carries it out to the living room, waiting for Squall to finish up and head toward him.

“Here,” he says, shoving the object at him.

Squall blinks and reaches out, mostly out of instinct. When he sees what it is, he smiles. “Does this mean we’re going steady?”

“Damn right,” Seifer says. He shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant as he watches Squall fasten the chain around his neck. “You gave me Griever to remember there was someone who cared if I got lost. So, here, this should remind you that I’m not who I was.”

Squall nods, rubbing his fingers over the blank nameplate. “You never did put anything on here.”

“Never could think of the right thing. Most people put their name on it, but that seems dumb. You can put something on it if you want.” Seifer smirks at him. “Property of Seifer Almasy and Rinoa Heartilly.”

“Not enough room,” Squall says, and the Hyne-damned motherfucker’s sense of humor is so dry, Seifer can’t figure out if he’s joking or not.

***

Seifer doesn’t wear the coat to Esthar, but people definitely recognize him.

Squall is interested to see how Seifer handles this, because Seifer very rarely allows anyone to see the person beneath the exterior he’s so carefully cultivated. He’s always been that way, and Squall saw glimpses of it back when they were cadets and maybe even during the war, when Ultimecia’s talons pulled away the veneer of confidence and power Seifer was so desperate to project.

He’s different at the Garden, a little more genuine; it’s obvious he likes his job and his students – at least his upper level students, the ones he’s decided are worth his attention – adore him. Squall’s seen Seifer in the grip of nightmares, has seen Seifer lose his goddamn mind beneath Squall in bed, has heard him say _I’m sorry_ and _I love you_ , is wearing Seifer’s necklace right now and can feel the weight of it like a promise instead of a shackle.

But this is Seifer when he’s fully guarded behind his many and various defenses; his chin is tilted, eyes narrowed and his brows drawn sharp like a challenge. He has that same little smirk on his face that makes Squall want to punch him in the nose and then fuck him senseless. Seifer wears defiance and arrogance just as easily as his old favorite coat.

And maybe it’s because Squall knows him so much better now, but he can tell it’s part bravado and partly that anger that he thinks will always be a part of Seifer Almasy, smoldering like half-banked embers even if it never burns hot enough to catch fire.

Rinoa is keeping an eye on the people who pass them, because it’s not like the Estharians are all that in love with the idea of Sorcerers and Knights, given their complicated history with both. But Rinoa is beautiful and warm, and Squall _did_ save the world, so they’re more likely to save their glares and whispers for the unrepentant war criminal.

Squall is on high alert but no one says anything, no one throws any rotten fruit or live grenades. By the time they’re shown to their suite in the palace he’s glad to be able to take a deep breath and release his hold on Lionheart’s hilt.

Seifer looks as unapproachable as a cactuar and runs off to his room just as fast as one, closing the door behind him. Squall considers following him, decides his boyfriend’s mood is best left on simmer and leaves him alone. Rinoa goes to take a nap in the giant king-size bed in their suite, snuggling up with a soft blanket on top of the covers in just her underwear and a tank top, which is how she always takes naps.

Squall isn’t tired, so he closes the door after kissing her fondly on the top of the head and decides he might as well get the emotional part of the day over with and go see his father.

Laguna’s office seems to be at the opposite side of the palace, an endless maze of corridors and those lift things that seem way less convenient to Squall that a simple elevator.

“Laguna?” Squall knocks on the heavy door. “It’s Squall.” He notes with some displeasure that there’s not a single guard around, which seems like incredibly lax security. He’s going to have to mention that to Kiros.

There’s a crashing noise, an exclamation and a thunder of sound like a stampede – yeah, Laguna is there, all right. He throws his door open with a wide grin. As usual he’s dressed casually, hair half-caught in a ponytail and half loose around his smiling face. His bright green eyes are warm and expressive, and Squall wonders for the thousandth time how it’s possible that he’s this man’s son.

Squall honestly feels ten years older than his father on any given day, but at least if genetics have anything to do with it, he’ll never look a day older than thirty-five. If that.  

“Squall, hi! What a surprise, I wasn’t sure if I’d see you before dinner. Come in, come in! Do you want something to drink? Water, or a beer or something? Is it too early for a beer? I took the afternoon off, you know, of course, since you were on your way. Cancelling meetings is my favorite thing to do!” Laguna seemingly realizes that he’s still standing in the doorway, so he moves away and beckons Squall in with a wave.  

Esthar is the most technically advanced country on the planet. It has a standing army that could take over the world if Laguna wanted it to, a scientist who invented a time travel machine, and the man in charge is a former Galbadian soldier who accidentally starred in a movie and taught moombas how to speak.

Squall is never sure if he’s embarrassed by his father or in awe of him. Maybe it’s a little of both. 

Laguna’s office is large, with wide sweeping windows and an incredible view of the city, but it’s also messy in way that Quistis couldn’t be if she tried and Squall wouldn’t have nearly enough stuff to pull off. Laguna perches on the edge of the desk, knee bouncing. “So how are you?”

“I’m good,” Squall says, taking a seat. At least these chairs are a lot more comfortable than the ones in the Garden’s headmaster’s office. “Thanks for letting Seifer in the country, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. I figured if he was with you, then he must have at least renounced his world domination plans. I’m surprised he wanted to come, to be honest. I can’t imagine this place holds many good memories, despite it being the sparkling jewel in the crown of Hyne’s green earth.”

Despite technically being a Galbadian, Laguna loves Esthar and it shows. There has to be some reason he keeps being elected, especially considering he’s always cancelling meetings. Maybe that’s _why._

“He came because I asked him to.” Squall wonders, suddenly, if there’s going to be an issue with the whole thing not because of who Seifer is, but simply because he’s a man. He doesn’t think so – Laguna doesn’t strike him as particularly prejudiced, and Esthar is fairly progressive in just about everything else. But Squall’s been a soldier too long not to consider every obstacle and plan for every possible angle of attack.

“Seifer and I are…uh. Together.” Squall adds quickly, “And yes, Rinoa knows and is fine with it.” He wishes he could just get this on a card and hand it out to people when necessary. Wait. Why can’t he do that? He’s totally doing that.

Laguna smiles at him. He doesn’t look bothered in the least – and he doesn’t look at all surprised, either. “So you brought him home to meet dad, did you? Aw. Squall. I’m touched.” He laughs at the look on Squall’s face. “You’ve forgiven him, then?”

“Why else would we….?”

“I know there’s such a thing as hate-fueled attraction.” Laguna bursts out laughing. “You blush just like your mom did, kiddo. She couldn’t hide it, either.”

“We – it’s not – it might have started that way but it’s not like that, not now,” Squall mutters, raking a hand through his hair. Hyne, this is embarrassing. 

His father snorts. “Your mom didn’t like me much at first, you know. I had to win her over. Actually, come to think of it, _you_ didn’t like me much when we met, did you? I think you wanted to shove me out of the Ragnarok.”

“Because you kept beating me at cards,” Squall says, and his father throws his head back and laughs even though Squall’s not kidding about that. His father is the best Triple Triad player Squall has ever met in his life. “So you’re all right with this?”

“Of course. I don’t have problem with anything you do that makes you happy, if you’re not hurting anyone or yourself. But I can’t imagine it’s easy, given what happened between the two of you,” Laguna says. And then, in a completely different voice with a completely different kind of smile, he says, “If he _ever_ does anything to hurt you, I’ll make him wish he _had_ been shot immediately on sight for entering the country.”

Squall blinks, tells himself his father is protecting him out of some sense of familial love and not because he doesn’t think Squall can do it just fine on his own. “You can tell him yourself if you want. Although you should probably know, he’s a huge fan of yours.”

“Is he? I didn’t realize Seifer was all that into politics.”

“No, I meant your acting,” says Squall. Though with his recent experience in politics, Squall’s starting to think it’s basically the same thing.

Laguna sighs fondly. “I was joking, Squall. So he’s a fan of that old Sorcerer’s Knight movie, eh? So it’s all my fault, then.”

Squall has no idea what to say to that.

“Joking, again. You really need to lighten up a bit, Squall.”

That will happen when the seas turn to glass and Quistis misfiles a report, so, never. “He watched the movie all the time in the orphanage. You don’t happen to have a copy do you?”

“Do I have a copy, he asks,” Laguna laughs. “Sure. And I _am_ proud of you, son. It takes a great deal of inner fortitude to forgive someone who’s wronged you. The world’s a better place when we can do that.”

“Unless he manages to hurt me again,” Squall says dryly.

“Then I will forgive him by having moombas rip him to tiny, ex-Knight, ex-boyfriend pieces,” Laguna says, way too cheerfully.

“Would moombas even _do_ that?” Squall wonders.

“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out.”

For the first time, Squall thinks _he’s my father and he’s acting like a dad and I think I want to hug him._

Maybe there’s something to this whole ‘forgiveness and moving on’ thing.

Squall stands up, but before he even thinks about initiating a hug he fixes his father with a stern look, the one that makes cadets cry and even Selphie listen up, and says, “So, who told you? Kiros?”  

“No one told me. I figured it out all on my own when you told me he was coming with you,” Laguna answers, not pretending to misunderstand. “When you told me to make sure he wasn’t arrested or detained. The tone in your voice. I’ve only ever heard you sound that way about Rinoa.”

Squall isn’t that surprised. If Laguna is good at anything, it’s reading people. He nods. “Okay. And, um. If the fact I’m with both of them changes things and you don’t want anyone to know that you’re my dad, that’s fine. I know you have a job that’s based in public opinion, and –”  

He doesn’t get a chance to finish because Laguna is right there, pulling him into a hug and Squall sighs inwardly and just goes with it. That’s what having a dad means. Hugs and embarrassing conversations and terrible jokes, right? 

“Of course I want people to know,” Laguna says, his voice muffled. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that I was your dad, Squall.”

Oh, Hyne. This is terrible. Squall returns the hug somewhat stiffly. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to call you that or not.”

Laguna pulls away, and his pretty green eyes are bright with unshed tears. “I would love for you to call me that. But only if you want to.”

Squall doesn’t know how to do this whole ‘having a parent’ thing. And he might, maybe, have some lingering resentment that he could have had Laguna in his life, if not for sorceresses and time travel and a million other reasons over which he had no control.

His least favorite thing, not having control.

Besides. If he could find it in himself to tell a man who tried to kill him _I love you_ , then he can call his father _Dad._ He wants to, it just feels vulnerable, like handing over something fragile that he’s afraid he’s going to have to watch break in front of his eyes.

“Well. Okay. Uh. Dad.” Wow, he’s bad at this.

Laguna’s grin is quick and bright, and Squall finds himself in yet another hug, and all right, that’s enough for one day. Squall never really thought about the emotional implications of calling his father _dad_ and apparently he should have.  

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’m just happy.” Laguna pulls away again. “I think your mom would be, too. Hyne. I loved her so much, Squall. I’m sorry that we never had a chance to be a family like we should have.”

How is it that some people can just _say_ this stuff?

Squall tries not to be awkward as he says goodbye, hoping that at least now that this is all said and done with, dinner will be relatively free of stress.

Despite the fact Rinoa is out shopping when he gets back to the suite and that he could have time to himself, Squall finds himself going and knocking on Seifer’s door.

“Yeah?”

“You mind if I come in?” Squall frowns. His voice doesn’t sound quite steady.

“Always.”

Squall steps back from the door. Obviously, he won’t push. And how stupid that he might feel a little hurt, it’s not like he didn’t just run away from his own father after calling him _Dad_ for the first time, and if anyone should understand the need to be left alone it’s Squall. Still, for some reason, he wasn’t expecting Seifer's response. 

“Idiot, I’m kidding, c’mon.”

Oh.

Squall opens the door. Seifer is sprawled on the bed in only his underwear. He has one arm behind his head, and he’s holding a book in his other hand. Seifer takes one look at him and his eyebrows raise. He puts the book down. “What happened?”

“I – uh.” Squall makes a face. “Can we just not talk for a minute?”

“You’re the one that came in here,” Seifer reminds him.

Squall nods, shrugs out of his jacket and kicks off his boots, then crawls on the bed – and half on top of Seifer’s warm, hard body. He shoves his face in the space between Seifer’s neck and shoulder and says darkly, “Don’t say anything.”

“Sure.” Seifer picks his book back up, propping it on the side of Squall’s shoulder. Then his other hand comes down on Squall’s head, his fingers carding gently through Squall’s hair. “This okay?”

Squall nods, and Seifer pets him like a cat and reads his book. He plays with Squall’s hair for a good long while, then strokes his broad, warm hand over Squall’s back through his shirt, and finally slides underneath to rest against Squall’s skin. There’s nothing sexual about the touch, despite Seifer only being in his underwear – and is this how everyone naps but him?  

Squall breathes in and out, lets his mind settle from the heavy emotional moment, and then reaches out gently with the bond to see where Rinoa is. She’s shopping, and her warm energy is as soothing as Seifer’s touch.

Squall’s spent his whole life thinking that taking comfort from other people is weak, or that it has to involve talking. But it’s enough to just lay here, feeling the steady thrum of Seifer’s heartbeat and the pressure of his hand on Squall’s back, letting the gentle pulse of Rinoa’s soul-deep love and her boundless affection wash over him through their bond.

Really, if it weren’t for his brave, adventurous, stubborn Rinoa…he never would be able to let himself have any of this. She scaled all his walls with patience and love and knocked them down like Selphie with a pack of C4; joyfully and without regret. And that’s the only reason why he can do this, now, take comfort from her and from Seifer and let himself call his father _Dad._  

 _I love you,_ he thinks at her. _Thanks for not giving up on me._ She always says it was him that rescued her from the empty, cold void of space…and okay, technically he did do that, but he’s not the only one saved from being lost in the dark. 

There’s a strange tickle on the bond, and, oh, great, now _she’s_ crying.

_Well, maybe I can go three for three._

Squall keeps his face hidden in Seifer’s shoulder but reaches out, gently tugging at the Griever charm Seifer always wears. “Hey.”

“Mmm?” Seifer doesn’t even look at him.

“Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, you’re a huge problem laying there all quiet.” Seifer looks down at him. “Did something happen? Is someone coming to arrest me?”

Squall nods. “I did all I could. I’ll miss you.”

Seifer rolls his eyes, thankfully realizing Squall’s kidding. “I want a fucking monument, Leonhart. A big one, too.”

“The biggest I can build. In the shape of what?”  

“My….gunblade, duh. Why? What’d you think I was gonna say?” Seifer smiles when Squall gives a rough, quiet laugh. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just … needed a minute. You sometimes. Make me feel better. Touching you does, I mean.”

“Hyne, you are so terrible at this.” Seifer’s laugh is a deep, low rumble in his chest. “You could just say you needed to cuddle. ”

“I could.” Squall presses his face against Seifer’s warm skin. “But I probably never will.”

“Fine, you can say you need to pass out on me wearing your six belts and your socks so I can pet your pretty hair. Whatever floats your boat, Squally. You do have the emotional vocabulary of a moomba, though, you know that, right?”

“Yeah. Did you know my dad taught moombas how to say his name?” He lifts his head before they talk about moombas and prisons and Laguna’s dire threat about Seifer’s life-and-limbs. “I called Laguna _Dad._ It made him cry.”

Seifer’s smile is razor sharp, and he winks. “Is it a bad time to make a joke about what he’d do if I called him _daddy_? ”

Squall makes a face, hits Seifer on the shoulder, then feels himself smile. “ _Yes._ You are so infuriating.”

“That’s why you love me, yeah?” He ruffles Squall’s hair.

“Apparently.”

Seifer’s hand goes back to stroking, which is nice. “That why you had to climb on me? Too many emotions?”

“Yup.” Squall rolls on his back, fingers skirting across the smooth metal of the choker Seifer gave him. “Did you mind?”

“Did it seem like I minded?” Seifer looks over at him, and Squall can tell he likes how Squall is playing with his necklace in the same way Squall likes it when he catches Seifer doing it with his. “I know it sometimes seems like I don’t because I’m an asshole who likes to piss you off, but I do actually _like_ you, Leonhart. Most of the time.”

“You love me,” Squall reminds him.

“True, but I think the part where I like you is the newer development.”

“I’m not sure I’m there yet,” Squall deadpans, and Seifer snorts and shoves at his shoulder. Squall retaliates by hitting him back. “You’re not going to cry are you?”

“From that? Hell, no. You’d have to hit me a lot harder.” Seifer arches his eyebrows. “Or do you mean because of the blatant lie you just told that you don’t like me, despite how you came in here to cuddle?”

“Shut up.” Squall leans in and kisses him, makes it slow and easy, nothing like their usual aggression.

“You want to….?” Seifer lets the question trail off, his meaning clear enough.

“I want you to read. I want to pass out on top of you in my six belts and my socks and have you pet my hair some more,” Squall says, tucking himself against Seifer’s side again. “Okay?”

“Sure, weirdo,” Seifer says, but he picks his book up, goes back to reading, and Squall falls asleep with Seifer’s fingers carding through his hair.

***

Rinoa turns and examines her reflection in the mirror, biting her lip as she thinks about whether or not she should buy the dress she’s trying on.

It’s a color she never wears, a bright scarlet the color of blood, but she knows it looks good with her coloring. It’s very sorceress-chic. Maybe she could find Seifer and Squall matching ties. The thought makes her giggle.

The thing is, Rinoa doesn’t want to scare people. She knows she has powers that are frightening – they scare her sometimes, too – but she’s never been someone who wants to use them to create some allure or mystique. She wants people to like her, for the most part, and she wants to make a difference. If she can use her newfound magic to do that, then great.

But people are wary about sorceresses, and she understands that. Better than they do, probably. So maybe wearing something blood-red that screams _witchy_ isn’t the best idea. But she loves the color, and she likes how the dress looks, and what the hell. Seifer walked to the presidential palace from the airstation like he was about to face Ultimecia herself. Squall had the cold, dead-eyed mercenary look that said _go on and fucking try something, I dare you._

She can wear a red dress, right? Right. Rinoa buys it, smiles a bit too brightly at the saleslady just in case, and happily accepts the offer to have the dress delivered to her suite. She wanders around the shopping district, mostly just enjoying the hustle and bustle and the sheer variety of shops. She pops in and finds a toy for Angelo, a bright yellow beaded necklace in a vintage shop that just _screams_ Selphie, and a tiny cactuar shot glass that has Quistis’s name all over it. Even looking at the little thing makes her laugh, remembering Quistis trying to whip the small monsters on Cactuar Island. While she’s in the gift shop she gets a warm little surge of love and contentment, the kind she usually feels only after sex with Squall when he’s half-asleep and holding her close.

It makes her smile when she gets the impressions; he had a good talk with his dad, he’s _cuddling with Seifer,_ and there’s a shy, quiet thank you for her basically being a pest and refusing to give up on the connection she knew was there between them, no matter how hard he’d fought it.

It makes her eyes go misty because Squall has such a hard time being vulnerable, and she’s glad that he’s able to admit there’s more to his relationship with Seifer than just rough sex and snark. And she’s always happy to hear how great she is.  

When she gets back to the suite, she approaches Seifer’s still closed door and pauses to make sure she’s not interrupting something. She wouldn’t mind, obviously; but after she yelled at the two of them about the whole _don’t mention me and our respective sex lives_ back when they first hooked up, she thinks it’s sort of hypocritical of her to ask for front-row seats. Even if she’d be there with bells on.

“Yeah, come in.”

She opens the door and smiles at the sight before her. Seifer is reading, and Squall is draped half on top of him, dressed in only his shirt and his pants. His boots and jackets are on the floor near the door, but his belts are over by Seifer’s side of the bed.

“Those fucking belts and the buckles, they’re _painful_ ,” Seifer says.

“I know,” Rinoa says, and they share a grin. Then she blushes, because Seifer’s only wearing a pair of boxers and he’s got a nice body. With Squall half on top of him, and that’s definitely a nice sight.

Squall lifts his head and blinks his sleepy eyes at her. “Hi. C’mere.” He pats the side of the bed next to him.

She takes a step, then remembers to check with the other occupant. “Seifer?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, let’s all cuddle.” He tosses his book aside.

Rinoa toes off her shoes, then crawls up on the bed so she’s on Squall’s other side and snuggles up next to him. She peeks over Squall’s chest at Seifer and giggles. “This is cute! Isn’t this cute?”

“I don’t know how I feel about the fact we are both someone’s type,” Seifer says, in response.

“What? Oh come on, don’t be silly. We have a lot of things in common, Seifer.”

“Yeah? Name three.”

“You’re both determined to the point of insanity, you talk about your feelings all the time and you’re both really hot.”  This from Squall.

“So…tenacious, loquacious and bodacious?” Rinoa grins at her clever pun. “Whatever, that was funny!”

“I’m moderately impressed with your verbal skills,” Seifer agrees, and he does look like he’s smiling. A real smile, too, not the chilly one she’d seen on his face as they’d entered Esthar.

Squall snickers like a fifteen-year-old. “You’re both good at that, too.”

“I think he meant that as a sexual innuendo,” says Seifer. “But he should stop trying, because it was bad.”

“You both drive me crazy,” says Squall. “There’s also that.”

“Yeah, well, you’re emotionally stunted, you use weapon metaphors to express your feelings –”

“He’ll move on to magic ones eventually,” Rinoa interrupts.

“—yeah? Great, something to look forward to. You have the _coldest feet in the fucking universe –_ ”

“Like blocks of ice,” Rinoa adds cheerfully.

“—you can’t say the word ‘cuddling’ without looking like I just Firaga’d you—”

“In order to know what that’d look like, you’d have to actually hit me with one,” Squall murmurs.

“Rinoa, pinch him for me.”

Rinoa does so, charmed by this entire thing. “He’s so happy right now. Like, his aura. I wish you could feel that.” She suddenly wonders if she could share it, magically, and for the first time wonders if there’s anything she can do about Seifer’s broken bond.

Squall goes a little stiff and glances at her, his brows drawn. _No._

 _I know. I just wish I could help._   “This is nice. I like it. Especially the part where we get to tease Squall.”

“That part is pretty great,” Seifer agrees.

“So if I put _cuddle party_ on the shared calendar, you’ll RSVP?” Rinoa wraps an arm around Squall’s middle. She realizes she’s accidentally brushed against Seifer’s chest – he takes up a lot of room – and carefully pulls her hand back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. No, really.” Seifer surprises her by reaching out and grabbing her hand, then pressing it low on Squall’s stomach, his own heavy on top of hers. She’s gotten so used to how cool Squall’s skin is that she’s almost surprised at how _warm_ Seifer’s hand is.

“This is making me think things,” Squall says, staring down at their joined hands, resting low on his stomach. “Just so you know.”

Seifer gives a very intimate sort of laugh. “I’ll bet.”

Rinoa is momentarily distracted by a rush of sexual energy; it’s part hers, and part Squall’s, and that’s interesting. She’s not thought about Seifer in any sort of sexual way outside of some hot fantasies that always involve him with Squall, not her.

“Like I said,” Squall says, in his _I have no regrets and no problem, so you don’t, either,_ voice. “It’s making me think about things.”

“You mean a threesome?” Seifer asks. “Huh. I didn’t think you’d be into that.”

“Why not? I have sex with both of you separately, why wouldn’t I be into it if it was all at one time?”

“First of all, you can’t do us both at once –”

“Try me,” says Squall, eyes gleaming in challenge.  

Seifer flicks him on the forehead like they’re all twelve. “Maybe Rinoa doesn’t want to see us together like that.”

Squall’s laugh is low and amused. “Yes, she does.”

Well, so much for thinking she’d been keeping that on the downlow. “And Seifer?” Sure, their hands are touching but moving from that into a threesome seems a bit of a jump, considering what happened when Rinoa hugged him a few weeks ago.

“My pride and my libido say yes,” Seifer says. “I’m not sure, though. Hyne, if you want to stop the entire war from happening, just go back in time and tell me at sixteen that following Ultimecia means I’ll hesitate about being in a threesome with two insanely hot people. That’ll end that war before it even starts.” 

“You think I’m hot?” Rinoa winks at Seifer. “You charmer.”

“You aren’t the problem, here, beautiful. It’s that I’m fucked in the head.”

Squall pushes up on his elbows and looks at the two of them. “I get off all the time thinking about that.”

“When?” Seifer demands, looking up at him. “Where?”

“Logistics are not the part I think about, Seifer.”

“No, I mean, when do you have the time to jerk off, and where? I swear you don’t have time to sleep most of the time, and you can’t tell me you’re lacking when it comes to sex.”  

“You make the time for things that are important, Almasy,” says Squall. “And it’s not that I’m lacking anything. I have a high sex drive. Physical things are the one thing I’m good at, remember?”

Rinoa is trying to not notice that Seifer’s half-hard in his boxers. Squall glances over at her, and then at Seifer. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a sudden and very vivid image of Squall between Seifer’s spread legs, sucking him off with Seifer’s hands in his hair –

Rinoa sucks in a breath. “Stop that.”

“I forgot to add the part where Squall can’t say _I wanna cuddle_ but he can tell you in explicit detail how he wants a threesome.”

“That wasn’t explicit, but I can do that if you want.” Squall glances at both of them. “I’ve always had an easier time with this part.”

That’s true. He’d been shy and a little worried about hurting her at first, but when Squall figured out what she liked in bed, it was full steam ahead. “So you’re saying you have a fantasy about being with the two of us at once, and you want to make it a reality?”

“As if you’re not literally the luckiest man alive when it comes to sex, Leonhart,” Seifer says. He flashes a grin over at Rinoa. “Am I right or am I right, Heartilly?”

“Damn right, Almasy.” They lift their hands in tandem and do a fistbump. “So I have all the information, here, you’re talking about you and Seifer, and me and you, right?”

Squall nods. “I know Seifer’s not comfortable with touching a woman that way.”

“You are the worst wingman ever,” Seifer mutters.  

Squall turns his head to look at him. “Am I wrong?”

“No. It’s – like I said. I’m fucked up.” Seifer thinks about it for a second, then says, “My cock is definitely into it, so with some booze I’m probably a sure thing.”

“No,” Rinoa says, firmly. “We do this sober or not at all. There’s too much weirdness there without consent.”

“Fair enough,” says Seifer. “You’re sure you’re into this, Rin?”

“Yes,” Squall says, before Rinoa can even answer. “She’d like it if you watched me go down on her after I fuck her.”

“Squall!”

“What? You would.” Squall blinks at her. “Again, am I wrong?”  

“No, but let a girl negotiate her own exhibitionism, thank you.” Rinoa presses her face down against Squall’s skin, glad for once that his body temperature runs somewhat cooler than normal. Her face feels like it’s on fire. “We can’t do this now, we don’t have time.”  

“Obviously.” Squall gently runs a hand down her hair. “We don’t _have_ to do anything. But I would. If you both wanted to.”

Rinoa rubs her face like a cat against Squall’s shoulder. “I think it would be fun, but I’m always up for something new. Still, Seifer, I don’t want to….it’s not worth messing with your head, okay?”

Seifer actually squeezes her hand. “Thanks,” he says, and then, “but I’m not a fucking wuss, so like hell am I turning this down.”

“Good. I’m going to go get ready for dinner.” Squall turns his head and kisses Seifer, slow and heated. “Thanks for this. Uh. The, uh—”

“Just say _cuddling_ , Leonhart, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, that.” He turns and kisses Rinoa, just as heated. “Thanks for. Well. Everything.”

Great, now she’s turned on and crying, what a terrible combination.

Squall gets out of bed, retrieves his belts and his boots and jacket, and pauses at the door. “That was the limit for me and emotions. We can talk about fucking later if you want, but that’s it.” With that, he turns and walks out of the door.  

Rinoa flops back on the bed and looks over at Seifer. She does not look below his chest. She will not. Nope. “You know why he’s even bringing this up, right?”

“Duh. He had too many feelings today, and they weren’t all bad so he has to express them in bed.” Seifer puts his arms behind his head and smirks at her. He’s changed a lot in the last few years, but that smirk sure hasn’t.

“Oh yeah.” She shakes her head and sighs. “It took him almost a year to say _I love you_ without me saying it first. It takes, what? Six months for him to suggest a threesome?”

Seifer snorts. “Four months longer than it should have, yeah? I mean. Look at us.”

“True.”

Seifer is still sprawled on the bed and she’s resolutely _not_ looking below his collarbones. “Look, I get off on the idea of showing off, no lie, but you’re sure about wanting to watch? Squall’s never mentioned.”

She nods, then says haltingly, “Um, I never mention it because, ah, remember when I got so mad at you both for bringing me up in that fight? And talking about sex? I thought that meant I couldn’t express my appreciation for the idea of the two of you in bed together.”

“That’s dumb,” Seifer says, rolling his eyes. “Only a girl would come up with that.”

She almost threatens him, then says sweetly, “Play nice or you can’t see my tits.”

He grins, clearly delighted, then reaches out…and flicks her on the nose. “Here’s hoping they’re as good as I remember.”

Maybe he hasn’t changed _that_ much.

***

Seifer is going to make a rule that no one brings up threesomes before important dinners in which Seifer meets his boyfriend’s father, the president of the most powerful country on the planet, and the star of his favorite childhood movie. Who all happen to be the same person.

He’s already a little surprised by his own desire to make a good impression, a little concerned about the whole Lunar Cry releasing people-eating monsters into the city thing, and now he’s distracted thinking about having a quasi-threesome with his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s girlfriend.

Well, his life is certainly not dull.

Squall wanders out into the living area, wearing the same dark black suit he wore for Quisty’s birthday. His hair is damp from a recent shower, and great, now Seifer is thinking about Squall in the shower, wondering if he got himself off thinking about this suggested threesome.  

Squall stops and stares at him like he’s never seen him before. “Seifer.”

“Squall. Yes. What?” He pushes at his neatly combed hair, frowning at the intense look he’s receiving. “Is something wrong?”

Squall crosses over to him, and he doesn’t walk like a regular person, he _prowls_ like – well, like a fucking lion, ha ha. He pushes Seifer with surprising strength, then does it again, his face flushed and his slate eyes narrowed like he’s angry.

“What the –”

Squall shoves him up against the wall and kisses him. His hands are everywhere and he’s rubbing himself against Seifer’s thigh and _oh._

“You like the suit?” Seifer guesses.

“Yeah,” Squall pants, against his neck.

“Leonhart, did someone drug you?” Seifer pulls him back with a hand in his hair – it’s not like he can make it any messier. “I know you think I’m hot, but you’re acting like a teenager.”

Squall frowns at him, which turns into a scowl. He steps back and straightens Seifer’s collar, smooths his hands over the jacket in an attempt to fix where he wrinkled it. “Whatever.”

It’s a nice suit, and Seifer _does_ think he looks good in it. It’s a dark gray, charcoal suit with a pale blue button-down, a gray vest and a tie that looks almost turquoise. Seifer had balked about this, but Rinoa – who had of course picked it out – had stomped her size seven foot and insisted.

It does look good with his eyes. And Squall seems to like it, so.

“Don’t muss him up! Squall.” Rinoa’s heels arrive first, and then she rounds the corner and Seifer gives her a wolf whistle. She looks goddamn _amazing_ in that dress.

It’s red, and not just a subtle red but a _fuck you, I’m a sorceress_ red.

Squall leans back against the wall, and despite the slight flush to his skin and the glassy look in his cool eyes, he looks dangerous, like a predator. The look he gives Rinoa is one that says _you’re prey, I want to fucking devour you_ , and the one he gives Seifer is basically the same, with an edge of _….after I fight you first._

“We can’t leave the suite like this,” Seifer says. He laughs, the sound a little wild. “Squall, the next time you want to bring up a threesome, make sure we don’t have anywhere to be, first.”

“It’s almost like it would be helpful if someone made a calendar. Oh, wait,” Rinoa murmurs, which at least ratchets the tension down a little.  

Squall doesn’t speak, so Seifer walks away from him and toward Rinoa. “You look great,” he says.  He might be a war criminal and a failed knight, but he can still be a goddamn gentleman.

Rinoa flashes a sweet smile at him, at odds with her fuck-me dress and the power that’s shimmering around her like a shield. “Thanks. That suit looks so good on you. I’m glad you went with my suggestion for the tie.”

It seemed like less a suggestion and more an order at the time, but Seifer doesn’t tell her that. “He’s going to be a problem,” he says, instead, nodding over at Squall.  

“Can you do something about it?” She bites her lip and glances at Squall. “Quickly?”

Seifer gives her a very fancy bow. “My pleasure.” He walks over and grabs Squall by the arm. “Come on, pretty boy. You need to calm the fuck down.” He pulls him toward the bedroom, intending that a quick suck or a handjob should be enough to take the edge off.

“No.” Squall resists, and he’s lanky but surprisingly strong – especially when he decides he’s not going somewhere, it’s like trying to move a very obstinate mountain. “It’s fine.”  

“Squall, you’re projecting lust like it’s a fucking spell,” Seifer says. “And your sorceress needs you to stop distracting her.” He scowls when Squall turns all that deadly sexual energy at him. “And I’m not interested in ending up in jail, yeah? When you get like this, we get violent. And that’s not happening. So let me take care of it. You’re so worked up it’ll take three seconds, we’d be fucking done by now if you’d stop being stubborn.”  

“I said,” Squall hisses, stepping into his personal space, “ _No_.”

“Squall,” Rinoa says. “Seifer’s right. I’m – this would be easier for all of us if you could, um. Calm down.”  

Squall blinks, and then his eyes go cold. He’s junctioned Shiva, and strongly – so much so that when he breathes, Seifer can see it in the air between them. He’s calm, in that way that a typhoon is calm if you manage to freeze it mid-wave. “There we go.”

Well, it does help. Squall’s dangerous, edged sexual energy eases, Rinoa takes an audible deep breath, and Seifer feels his own body dial down a few levels. “I’m sorry,” Squall says, stiffly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You had too many feelings today, champ. Also, look at us. I don’t blame you for wanting to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Let’s go.”

Squall nods, but he walks over to Rinoa, takes her hand in his and leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. “You look beautiful. I like the dress.”

“Thanks.” She smiles, and Squall tucks her hand into the crook of his arm. He holds the other arm out to Seifer. “Ready?”

“Really?” Seifer eyes him.

Squall shrugs. “What? Why would it be any different just because you’re a man?”

Seifer doesn’t even know what to _do_ with him, sometimes. But he’s not one to back down, so he shrugs and walks over, hooks his arm into Squall’s and says, “Can we please go before this gets weirder?”

Dinner is being served in the President’s private dining room, which is in his apartments. They take a few of those lift things and wander down six or seven thousand hallways, and Seifer memorizes the pattern mostly so he’s not thinking about what’s about to happen when they get there.

Laguna might hate him, has every _right_ to hate him, and Seifer should really not care as much as he does about that.

The dining room isn’t palatial but it’s big enough for twenty people to fit there comfortably. There’s only Laguna and another man, who is introduced as Kiros. He’s as quiet and reserved as Laguna Loire is cheerful and loud, and in that respect, Squall resembles _him_ more than his father.

“Rinoa!” Laguna smiles, wandering over when they enter the room. “You look gorgeous, I’ve never seen you in that color. It suits you.” He bows over her hand gracefully.

“Thank you,” Rinoa says, and follows the courtly gesture with a hug. She clearly adores him.

Laguna greets his son, his smile full of affection. That probably makes Squall uncomfortable as hell, so Seifer is all about it.

Only Squall Leonhart would have a problem discovering his father was a famous, powerful politician who adored him.

“Seifer Almasy,” Laguna says, and there’s an intensity there that does remind Seifer of Squall, only it seems all of Laguna’s is channeled into a goofy, lovable sort of charm. “Laguna Loire. It’s nice to meet you under less antagonistic circumstances.”

If they met under any other circumstances, Seifer has no memory of it. Great, what the fuck had he done? Laguna extends his hand, though, so Seifer reaches out to shake it. “President Loire. Thanks for letting me in the country.” That doesn’t come out as suave as maybe he would have liked, but oh well.

“Call me Laguna. And thanks for not bringing any monsters with you, this time.”

“I made sure Squall had a snack first,” Seifer says, taking a chance on a probably inappropriate joke. It seems to work; Laguna laughs, and it seems genuine enough. He adds, “I do apologize for my actions during the war.”

“Well, I figured, or Squall wouldn’t want you here.” Laguna waves them over to the table. “It was a dark time and I’m glad everyone made it out relatively unscathed.”

That seems to be a fairly generous view, but Seifer isn’t about to argue so he just takes his seat instead. He looks down and sees there’s a DVD on his plate, and he can’t help the grin when he notices what it is. “Ah. Squall told you about that, I see.”

“I admit, no one _ever_ wants a copy of that old thing,” says Laguna.

“That’s why he has a hundred shrink-wrapped copies, just in case,” says Kiros, the only other person who’s dining with them.

The DVD is signed _To Sir Seifer, my fellow Knight and biggest fan! Love, Laguna Loire aka Sir Zefer_.

_Sir Seifer, my fellow Knight._

Something about the message feels pointed, like Laguna’s saying _neither of us were real knights at all, I was in a movie and you were brainwashed by a time-traveling witch._ Well, Ultimecia might have been a time-traveling witch, but she _was_ a sorceress, and Seifer has the broken bond to prove he really was a knight.

Seifer tells himself to calm down, refusing to be at the mercy of his temper like he has for most of his life. At least not right now. “Thank you. I’ll make Squall watch it.”

“I watched it with you all the time at the orphanage,” Squall points out.

Seifer peers at him with narrowed eyes. “There’s no way you remember that.”

“I saw you pretending to protect the couch-cushion princess with your wooden sword, remember?” Squall’s mouth quirks up when he sees Seifer blush.

“That just means you were a creepy stalker when we were kids, not that you watched it with me.”

“They do this a lot,” Rinoa says to Laguna. She looks amused. “How’s politics treating you?”

Laguna launches into a story about the Estharian cabinet that doesn’t make much sense to Seifer but is funny simply because Laguna’s the one telling it; he’s fond of hand gestures, so much so that Kiros has to smoothly rescue a few dishes before they’re knocked over.  

Squall really must take after his mom.

Squall leans over at some point and says in a low murmur, “You promised to blow my mind, remember? If I got you a signed DVD?”

Seifer gives Squall his trademark smirk, his equilibrium returned. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I always keep my fucking promises.”

And for once, that was gonna be a _good_ thing.

***

Dinner goes well enough. Laguna is a politician and can make small talk with anyone, but he does generally seem to be fine with Seifer. Kiros might be giving Squall’s boyfriend the occasional cold look, but that’s only to be expected.

Squall promises to meet with him the next day to go over a plan for announcing their relationship, which Squall is fine with Laguna doing as long as he’s nowhere near Esthar when it happens. Laguna looks a little disappointed that Squall doesn’t want some kind of official party – maybe Laguna should adopt Selphie.

Speaking of adoption, Squall hopes Laguna knows he’s never going to change his name. Squall likes Leonhart, even if he’s not sure exactly where it came from, but saying “Squall Loire” three times in a row makes it sound like his name is _squalor._

“Thanks for having us for dinner,” Squall says, and then, “And for not arresting Seifer or letting Kiros shoot him.”

“That one took some fast talking,” Laguna says, aiming a fond look at Kiros. Squall has always wondered if the two of them are more than friends, but not even another Sorceress War would make him ask. “But it’s all right. I know he was brainwashed, and I might not be an expert on Knights and sorceresses, but…well.” Laguna laughs a little and shakes his head. “He can barely keep his eyes off you, which is sweet.”

Squall huffs and doesn’t say anything to that other than, “Okay,” which doesn’t even make sense but is all he can manage. Laguna shakes Seifer’s hand and then claps him on the shoulder, saying something that makes Seifer lower his eyes and nod. It’s unusual enough that Squall wonders what it was, and if Seifer will tell him.

“He likes you,” Squall says, as they make their way back to the suite.

Seifer nods, still looking a bit pensive. It must have been something major for Seifer to miss the opportunity to brag about that.

“Did he threaten you with the moombas?” Squall guesses.

“No, and I don’t think I want to know what that means.” Seifer is still staring down at the DVD.

Squall glances at Rinoa, but she just shrugs and looks a bit at sea. “Well, what did he say that upset you?” Squall demands.

Seifer looks – lost, a little, like he can’t quite figure out where he is or how they got there. Squall can sympathize. “He said that my wanting to be a knight…that my heart was in the right place.”

Squall’s brow furrows. That sounds like something his perpetually optimistic father would say. “Why did that upset you?”

“Because no one ever said that to me before, Squall.”

Oh. Seifer’s not upset because he’s unhappy, he’s upset because Laguna said something that he apparently wanted to hear? Squall tilts his head, wondering if he should point out that Seifer’s heart was also in it for the attention and the glory, but he feels Rinoa kick him on the shin and okay, no, maybe he shouldn’t.

When they get back to the suite, he lets himself unjunction Shiva and waits to see if that fierce, sharp sexual energy will return or if it was just the combination of thinking about taking both Seifer and Rinoa to bed and nerves from the overly emotional conversation with his father.

The thing is, Squall _is_ better at expressing physical desire than he is other things. And he wants both of them, Rinoa and Seifer, and it seems a waste of time to fuck one of them and go in the other room, especially when the beds are big enough that why wouldn’t they take advantage of a central location?

Maybe he doesn’t get off thinking about the logistics, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t at least _consider_ them.

“Squall,” Rinoa says, giggling a little. “Leave the romance up to me and Seifer, yeah?”

“What, was he just thinking about how he’s going to manage satisfying both of us if we don’t go for that threesome plan?” Seifer asks, and laughs when Rinoa nods. He puts the DVD down on the table and walks over to Squall, standing behind him. “You’re stupid. I’m down if your girl is.”  

Rinoa’s smile is sexy and slow as she kicks off her shoes. “Me, too. We’re all sober, right?”

They are. Squall doesn’t usually drink more than a beer or two, and he hadn’t had anything at all tonight. Rinoa had a glass of wine and Seifer had joined his father for a whiskey, but he’d sipped it throughout dinner and nothing about him suggests he’s drunk.

“Yeah,” Squall says. He sucks in a sharp breath as he feels Seifer’s hands settle on his hips, and lets Seifer pull him back against him, tilting his head as Seifer kisses at the back of his neck.

Rinoa pads over to where they’re standing and presses against him, all softness and curves compared to Seifer’s hard, muscular form. Squall’s breath catches; this is suddenly overwhelming him but in a good way, different than the barrage of emotions he’d felt earlier that afternoon. He slides his hands easily around Rinoa’s waist and pulls her close, kissing her while Seifer mouths at his neck.

“Mmmph.” Rinoa pulls away, her dark eyes bright and her mouth parted. “This – should we go to, um. The bedroom?” She giggles a little.

“You sure _you’re_ not drunk?” Seifer asks. “Though I don’t think I’d care as much about that as you.”

“I’m – well, it’s kinda like being drunk, actually,” she says with a soft laugh. “I – this is already hot and we haven’t done anything yet. Also, Squall’s so turned on and I can feel that, too.”

Seifer gives a low, masculine laugh and slides his hand down to rub Squall through his pants. “So can I.”

“Bedroom,” Squall says, and then simply picks Rinoa up to facilitate the process. “You have lube, right?” he asks Seifer, heading toward Seifer’s room.

“I’m insulted you just asked me that.”

Squall ignores him and kisses Rinoa as he carries her into the room. Once there, he sets her on her feet and turns to face them both. He crosses his arms across his chest.

“Commander Leonhart has arrived,” Rinoa teases, grinning.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” says Squall. “Rules. Don’t touch each other unless you ask first. Don’t ask because you think someone else wants you to. Don’t say yes unless you mean it. Got it?”

Rinoa nods, and Seifer gives him a terrible salute and a sarcastic, “Yes, _sir_.”

Squall walks casually up to him and says, “I’d correct your lazy salute, but in the spirit of our threesome I’ll just tell you that it got Rinoa hot when you called me _sir_.”

“Too bad,” Seifer says, chin lifting. “I ain’t doing it again.”

“Wait, wait, let’s not be hasty, here,” she says, bouncing on the bed. “Can’t we bargain or something? I’ll take my dress off.”

“Aren’t you gonna have to do that anyway?”

“Squall,” Rinoa sing-songs. “Seifer’s not playing the game right.”

“And you’re surprised?” Squall smirks and grabs Seifer by the neck, pulling him down to kiss him. “Mm. I can’t fucking wait to make you fall apart so she can watch.”

“You’re playing a lot better,” Rinoa tells him, tendrils of lust curling lightly around their bond.

“I’ve learned how to give Almasy here what he wants. And he’ll lie about it, maybe, but he likes it when I boss him around.” Squall’s already so hard he can barely think.

“I ain’t gonna lie about liking it in bed, Squally. Sometimes, mind you. It’s anywhere else I don’t have any interest.”

“So what’s it gonna be, tonight?” Squall asks. They don’t usually have to ask, it sort of naturally sorts itself out but Rinoa being there adds a different dynamic. Squall would rather know what Seifer’s in the mood for up front.

“Let’s ask her,” Seifer says, nodding over at Rinoa. “Well?”

Rinoa actually claps her hands together in glee. “Oh, I don’t know! This is such a hard decision, I didn’t even have time to think about it first. Wait, just kidding. Sorry, Seifer, but I totally want to see Squall go all Commander Leonhart on your ass. Literally.”

“You’re very proud of yourself for that, huh,” Seifer says, and then shrugs. “Don’t apologize. Trust me. He’s hot when he does it, you think I got a problem with that?”

“I guess I…did? I don’t know. That’s probably awful of me.” She bites her lip, then throws her hands in the air. “And I don’t care. All right! Give me a show, boys.”

“Are you gonna keep that dress on?”

“Everyone really is wearing too many clothes, aren’t they?” Rinoa hops up and moves over to Squall. “We have three sets of hands, let’s get to it.”

Really, they all know who is actually in charge of this show, here.  

Squall reaches around to find the zipper of her dress. She’s wearing the least amount of clothes given he and Seifer are in suits, and so she’s standing in her bra and underwear before they even have their dress shirts off. She reaches back to undo her bra, looking a little smug that she’s the first one to show any significant skin.

“Well, Seifer?” she teases, running her hands over the swell of her breasts. “Still as impressive as you remember?”

Seifer, who is facing him while Squall unbuttons his shirt, leans slightly to take in the sight of Rinoa in only her underwear. “Even better.”

“That was the right answer,” Rinoa says, clearly pleased.

Squall gets Seifer stripped down to his tank undershirt and his suit pants, and Seifer gets him bare-chested and in _his_ suit pants, and Squall’s done with the stripping portion of the evening. He gives Seifer a rough little push and says, “On your back.”

Seifer looks for a moment like he might argue, which doesn’t surprise Squall in the slightest. Seifer might _say_ he likes it when Squall takes charge, and he does, but in front of Rinoa it might be a different story.

Seifer takes his pants off and climbs on the bed, taking his sweet time about it. Squall looks over at Rinoa, who is perched on the chair by the bed looking expectant. “He’s totally showing off.”

“Great.” She waves a hand. “Then make him show me something good.”

Squall doesn’t bother taking his pants off – Rinoa’s sending him a little suggestion that she wants him to leave them on for some reason, and he’s happy to comply. He goes over to the bed and yanks at Seifer’s ankle, pulling hard – there’s a bit of scuffle and Squall finally straddles him, pinning him down and smiling despite himself.

“You don’t make anything easy on yourself, ever. Even when you want it.”

“That’s literally the story of my entire life, Squall.” Seifer smirks up at him, eyes hot. He pushes his hips up, his cock already hard as a rock. Squall is not surprised he likes this; attention is like a drug for Seifer, and he’s getting a double-dose.

Squall kisses him, grinding on top of him while he does so. He can feel the second Rinoa touches herself, and it makes him shiver and grind harder, gets him biting at Seifer’s mouth. “She’s wet just from seeing this. You like that?”

Seifer kisses him hotly, grabbing at his hair and then moving his head aside so he can see. “Yeah. Fuck, Rinoa.” He sounds very appreciative, as he should. Squall knows what Rinoa looks like, can imagine her legs on either side of the chair, her hand moving beneath the fabric of her silky underwear.

“You first,” Rinoa says, voice breathy. “This is – it’s even better than I imagined. You two look so good together.”

Her voice is so warm with approval, and that works on _Squall_ like attention does on Seifer. He bites his way down Seifer’s neck and chest, then lower, and Seifer is responding beautifully, hissing and grabbing at Squall’s hair and basically forcing Squall to keep him still.

He’s just about to take off Seifer’s boxer-briefs when he feels Rinoa come; feeling her orgasm through the bond is completely different than when it’s him but it makes him moan and bite a little too hard at Seifer’s abdomen.

“Damn, already?”

“Remember what I said? Under two minutes, boys. This girl, right here.”

Squall pulls Seifer’s boxer-briefs down and then leans back, glancing over his shoulder. Rinoa is flushed, still breathing hard, her hair in her face and her hand lightly stroking herself through her panties. He grins at her, because he can tell how much she likes this, then motions her closer. “You don’t have to stay on that chair if you want a closer look.”

“Seifer?”

“Get over here so he’ll suck my cock,” Seifer growls.

Squall looks down at Seifer, then smacks him hard across the face. “Watch your mouth.”

There’s a jolt of arousal followed by _guilt,_ and Squall actually laughs and says, “He likes it. Don’t you? Tell her.” Squall smacks Seifer again, one hand in Seifer’s hair to hold his head steady.

Seifer’s moan probably does that, but he says, “I like it. Are you fucking kidding me? Getting the Ice Prince hot enough under the collar to haul off and hit me?”

Rinoa slides onto the bed, smooth as silk, and sprawls next to them. She smiles, lets her eyes run appreciatively down Seifer’s body. Seifer reacts to the once-over like it’s a caress, practically preening. Squall has moment where he has not one single, solitary complaint about his life as Seifer shifts underneath him, his natural arrogance completely well-founded when it comes to his body.

Squall slides down and takes Seifer’s cock in his mouth without preamble; he feels Seifer grab at his hair and Seifer’s hips thrust up eagerly. He can feel Seifer beneath him and sort of see Rinoa next to them, writhing and getting herself off while she watches.

Seifer’s vocal in bed, likes to be mouthy and he’s clearly enjoying the audience as Squall knew he would. “He’s so pretty when he sucks cock.”

“He likes to go down on me after he fucks me,” Rinoa says. She’s close again, Squall can tell.

So is Seifer – he likes that, he makes a low sound and shoves himself harder down Squall’s throat. Squall doesn’t mind, but he smacks a hand on Seifer’s thigh as if warning him. Seifer responds to that with a snarling laugh and pulls at Squall’s hair again.

Someone’s getting a little too cocky. Squall pulls of Seifer’s cock and crawls up his body, forcing Seifer’s attention on him because he knows that’s what Seifer wants him to do. He shoves his fingers into Seifer’s mouth. “Suck.” They have lube, but why bother – Seifer likes it a little rough, and Squall knows he can take a few fingers with only saliva to ease his way in.

When Squall fucks him with his fingers, Rinoa gets off _again_ and Seifer almost comes, and all his mouthy commentary falling away into moans and gasps of pleasure.

“This is how I shut him up.” Squall glances between Seifer pushing forward against his fingers and Rinoa convulsing gently because of her own. He considers getting them _both_ off, but Rinoa will have little patience for him trying to make her come with his non-dominant hand when he’s distracted.

But if he practices, maybe next time.

Rinoa flips over so she’s on her stomach, which he knows is her favorite way to get herself off. Her hair is in her face and she looks so beautiful, watching them, her magic a warm-hot burn between them. He pulls his fingers free and kisses Seifer, Seifer’s hands pulling at him and trying to move him between his legs.

Fucking Seifer is always a rush, and it’s even more so, now; he gets himself slicked up and pushes inside, holding one of Seifer’s legs up to ease in. Rinoa’s soft little sounds are driving him crazy, her orgasms close together, quick little bursts of pleasure that dance like sparklers over their bond. Seifer watches, appreciative as Rinoa shudders and writhes next to them. He glances at Squall with his usual challenging smirk, flushed and his mouth parted, one hand on the wall behind the bed to push forward and the other on his own cock while Squall starts fucking him.

Rinoa must need a break because she sits up, watching with glittering eyes as Squall drives himself harder and harder into Seifer’s tight heat. “Mmm. Hyne, he likes this so much,” she says, and he realizes Rinoa is talking about him. “He loves how you look like this, Seifer. He thinks you’re so hot, he – it makes him feel violent, and he likes it.”

“Fuck,” Seifer pants, blinking, his pupils so dilated there’s barely any color.

Rinoa’s riding the edges of Squall’s lust, sinking into it and putting words into how he’s feeling in a way Squall never can.

“He feels so much for you and he doesn’t know how to tell you. All that anger, it’s always been this, so much of it and he never even knew…”

Seifer is definitely into this, he’s tightening around Squall and he’s close, it’s obvious. Squall knocks his hand off his cock and strokes him, staring down into Seifer’s lust-blurred eyes as he snaps his hips forward.

“He likes that you can take this, that you match him. That you let him take you but you never let him win.”

“Fucking goddamn right I – don’t – fuck, Squall –” Seifer throws his head back and comes, hard, messy all over his stomach and Squall’s hand, his muscles tightening enough that Squall shudders and nearly comes right then and there.

“Yeah,” Squall manages, and he closes his eyes and just goes for it, spurred on by Rinoa’s enthusiasm and the way Seifer’s grabbing at his hips, pulling him in with every thrust. He can barely hear Seifer saying something, encouraging him, and then he catches a thought of Rinoa’s and –

_Hyne, should I do that?_

_I think he’ll like it,_ she thinks back.

It doesn’t matter, because now that the idea is in his head he has to do it, wants to – he pulls out of Seifer’s body and manages to shift up his body, his hand jerking his own cock once, twice, and then he comes all over Seifer’s face.

It’s definitely not anything he’s done before, it catches Seifer totally by surprise, especially as Seifer is still coming down from his own orgasm. He makes a noise but it’s not a bad one, and Squall finishes and then sits back on his heels, blinking, his body trembling from how hard he just came all over his boyfriend’s face, because his girlfriend wanted him to.

“That was totally your idea,” Seifer says to Rinoa, the first one to speak because of course he is. He scowls, wiping his face with his arm. He shoves lightly at Squall.

“Yup,” Rinoa says, not sounding bothered in the least about admitting it. “You liked it. You – remember, you liked it when I sat on your face that one time.”

Squall inhales sharply; he’s never really thought much about Seifer and Rinoa together, not because it bothers him, particularly, because it doesn’t. But that image, it’s not one that’s going to leave his head any time soon.

“I did like that,” Seifer agrees. He turns his head and grins; there is no hint that he’s annoyed at Squall for what he just did. In fact, he’s pulled Squall down to lay on top of him, lightly stroking a hand down his back as if he isn’t even aware he was doing it. “I forgot about that. Bad, Seifer. You ever do that to Squall?”

“I think once or twice, but you know how he is. Do you ever do it to _him_? You should. Mmm.”

“You are goddamn insatiable,” Seifer says. He sounds impressed. “Squall better get it together and get over there and make you feel good.”

“He’s not going to come on my face,” Rinoa says, giggling. She flips over on her back, stretching, her body flushed and damp with sweat. Her giggle turns into a laugh as both men are staring at her. “This is _so_ good for my ego.”

Squall gets out of bed and goes into the en suite bathroom. He grabs a towel and wets it, then carries it back into the bedroom and sits next to Seifer. Without a word, he carefully wipes Seifer’s face, easily ignoring Seifer’s grumbling attempts to stop him. Then he cleans off Seifer’s stomach and leans down, kissing him, on hand on the side of his face. It’s not sweet but it’s not violent, it’s caught somewhere in that perfect place between the two.

Seifer kisses him back, easy as anything. “So, my turn to watch, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Squall presses his forehead to Seifer’s so their scars align. “But, uh. I should wash up.” He kisses Seifer, then moves over and kisses Rinoa. “I’ll be right back.”

“Good. If you’re gone too long, we’ll just start making fun of you,” she says, but she smiles and reaches up, brushing his hair back.

Squall gets off the bed. He looks at the two of them, feels a moment of absolute, perfect smug superiority, and goes to take a quick shower.

***

Rinoa watches Squall saunter off to the bathroom, then turns and smiles a little shyly at Seifer. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Seifer is more relaxed than Rinoa’s ever seen him, with no apparent desire to move or cover himself. He crosses his arms behind his head, unconcerned with his nakedness. “You liked watching that?”

“Mmhm. A lot. Four or five times.” She laughs, flipping over on her stomach. She lets herself look at him, taking in everything from the muscles in his arms to his chest, his sculpted abs, his strong thighs and the soft length of his cock. He clearly doesn’t mind the scrutiny; if anything, it’s making him happy. She doesn’t need a bond between them to know that.

“Yeah? Good. I’m gonna enjoy watching, too. Never really thought I’d be into that.”

The ease in which Seifer talks about his feelings is so different from Squall. Sure, a lot of the time she thinks he’s prevaricating and maybe trying to make his emotions something they’re not, but it’s still different.

“You sure?”

Seifer nods, looking smugly at her. “Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never thought about it before. Like I said. You’re hot, and my problem is all up here.” He taps the side of his head.

She almost asks about that, if he thinks maybe she could help, then reminds herself they’re sort of on vacation and this is supposed to be fun. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How easy this whole thing is – not _that_ ,” she teases, as his grin turns lascivious. “I mean the part where there are emotions involved with the three of us.”

Seifer shrugs. “There always has been, hasn’t there? We were…maybe it wasn’t you and Squall’s epic romance, but we were friends and we had a good time. Squall and I, well, obviously there was something there we just didn’t want to own up to. I guess we just…gave in.”

She makes a face. “I’m more the jump in head first type than the giving in type, to be honest.”

“Me, too.” He flashes his old charming smile at her, the one that’d made her take notice of him in the first place. “I guess we do have _that_ in common.”

Squall comes back out of the bathroom, where he’s apparently showered because his hair is wet and slicked off his face. He’s naked, skin still a little damp as he crawls on the bed. He doesn’t even stop to ask any questions, just climbs on top of her and starts kissing her. Like this is a mission.

Squall lifts his head and glances down at her. “This is funny?”

“A little,” she agrees, then glances over at Seifer. They share a laugh, and Squall looks momentarily interested, then appears to have his concentration caught up by other things – her breasts, mainly, as he moves down to start kissing at them.

Seifer props himself up on one elbow, lying on his side and watching. He does reach out at one point, but he doesn’t touch her or even ask if he can; he touches Squall, running a hand down his back. It seems less sexual and more grounding, though, and Squall doesn’t seem to mind.  

He hooks his fingers in the edges of Rinoa’s underwear and slides them off her legs, tossing them aside and settling between them. Rinoa makes a happy sound and drapes her legs over his shoulders. He’s so good at this and he likes doing it, a lot, which is _great._

He keeps it slow at first, not teasing because she hates that, she made sure from the very first to impress upon him that a too-light touch was far more frustrating than arousing. He knows exactly what to do to get her to the edge quickly and he does – only to back off and let her ease away from it, the bastard.

“Goddamnit, Squall,” she grouses, kicking at him lightly with her foot when she’s _just_ about to come, _again_. “I was so close that time!”

“Mmm.” Squall licks slowly up her slit, then turns his head to kiss the inside of her thigh. “I know.”

“Wow, that’s a dick move. Want me to punch him?”

Rinoa laughs at Seifer’s suggestion. “This is Squall’s version of showing off.”

“No,” Squall says, against her thigh. “It’s yours.”

 Okay, fine, maybe she _is_ enjoying being watched. She can’t help it; Seifer is just lying there, propped up on his elbow and staring at the two of them like he’s watching porn. She can see him playing idly with his cock as Squall goes back to kissing and licking at her, driving her toward the edge and if she doesn’t get to come this time, she’s going to let Seifer punch him as many times as he wants.

Her thighs are trembling and she points her toes hard as she comes, grinding herself against his mouth as the pleasure spikes and washes over her. He’s so good at this, it should be illegal.

When he pulls away, she’s panting and her limbs are twitching with aftershocks. Seifer’s eyes are half-closed and he’s holding the base of his cock, in a way she’s learned that men do when they’re trying to keep from coming.

Squall is moving, likely intending to kiss her but she stops him with a hand on his chest and a wicked, wicked thought – _no, kiss him._ She can’t help it; the exhibitionism is a kink she didn’t realize she had, and she wants Squall to share her taste with Seifer.

 _He might not want me to,_ Squall thinks at her.

 “Try asking,” Rinoa suggests, patting him on the shoulder.

“She wants me to kiss you,” Squall says, to Seifer. “I don’t know if you’re—”

Seifer grabs him around the neck and pulls him in without a word. Clearly he does _not_ have a problem with it, and she didn’t really think he would. She watches them, turned on all over again by the sight of them together and the knowledge of how Squall tastes like her, and why.

Seifer pulls away with a smirk, looks at Rinoa and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. He winks.

She stretches sinuously and laughs, delighted. This was a good idea. Seifer was her first and sure, it’d been awkward as those things usually were, but…they’d had _fun_ together. She likes that it’s a part of him that wasn’t taken away forever.

She’s also distracted by how much _Squall_ just liked that, and his growing interest in the idea of watching her and _Seifer_ together. Maybe one day, but for now…

“How should he fuck me?” Rinoa asks Seifer. It seems only fair to give him the same choice he gave her.

“Hard,” Seifer says. “You make so much _noise_ , Heartilly. I wanna hear you make some more.”

Rinoa actually feels herself blush, which seems a little ridiculous considering what she’s doing. “If gunblading doesn’t work out, you should get into porn.”

“Do not,” Squall says, firmly, “give him ideas.”

“I think Squally here is only okay sharing me with you.” Seifer moves to his back, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his chest. He’s playing with the charm around his neck as he considers them. “I could do voice overs.”

“Or direct,” Rinoa points out, unable to help herself. “We both could. Heartilly Almasy Productions.”

“Got a good ring to it,” Seifer agrees. “And I don’t know, what do you like the best? Look, Rin, this is hot and I’m really a pretty simple guy, here.”

Rinoa realizes he’s using Squall’s nickname for her, and wonders if he’s even picked up on it. She doesn’t say anything, but there’s a happy little kernel of warmth blooming in her chest that has nothing to do with sex when she hears it.

She moves so she’s on her hands and knees. “I like it this way.”

 “Of course you do.” Seifer grins. “It’s dirty.”

Rinoa throws her head back and moans as Squall presses his cock against her and slides inside. She’s so wet from his mouth and her orgasms that it’s not painful, but she’s tight enough that he still takes it slow. He gives her a second to adjust and then he starts fucking her, hands settling on her hips and finding a rhythm.

Rinoa doesn’t hold back, she fucks herself on his cock by pushing back against him, her hair a dark messy curtain and her fingers clenched in the bedding. She can hear herself and the noises she’s making, and she knows that they’re nothing like the same breathy little sounds she makes when he goes down on her. These are almost filthy, which is probably the only reason she doesn’t sound like he’s hurting her.

“Can you come from getting fucked?” Seifer asks her, and how he manages to say this stuff and make it sound hot instead of cheesy – maybe he _should_ consider porn.

 _No,_ Squall growls in her head, and his thrusts get a little more aggressive and wow, she doesn’t necessarily want him to be that possessive about _her_ but she absolutely does not mind it when it comes to Seifer.

“Mm…yeah, I can, but it’s different,” she answers, voice wrecked, trying to make her thoughts coherent enough to explain. “G-spot, not – oh, that’s – yeah, harder, Squall --” She’ll explain G-spot orgasms later. Right now, she’s too busy getting fucked hard and perfect, she _loves_ this, Squall’s controlled strength and the way he uses it just on the right side of too much.

“You heard the lady, Commander,” Seifer says, the cheer in his voice clearly underlaid with lust. “Goddamn you look good fucking someone. He can come from just being fucked, Rin. I made him.”

“Just the – once,” Squall gasps out, shifting to get a better position on his knees, hauling Rinoa back up as she’s started to fall down on her elbows. She loves that, too, the way he takes charge, pulls her where she needs to be so that it feels the best.

“Challenge accepted, Leonhart.”

Rinoa hears him huff out a laugh, then his hands tighten around her hips and he fucks her with hard, fast snaps of his hips. She can’t hold herself up anymore and this time he lets her fall, following her to the mattress and collapsing on top of her. He’s fucking her almost wildly, completely covering her back and she can hear her own cries, muffled in the bedding, as he nears the edge.

He makes a sound that’s also strangely muffled when he comes, and she turns her head to see that at some point he grabbed Seifer’s arm and is _biting it_ and okay, wow, there’s something she’s going to spend a lot of quality time thinking about.

Squall wastes no time after his orgasm runs its course. He pulls out and flips Rinoa over, throws her legs over his shoulders and presses his mouth to her again so fast she’s dizzy. The first time he did this after fucking her she was embarrassed and fidgety; it wasn’t until she understood how much _he_ got off on it that she stopped worrying and let herself enjoy it.

“You weren’t kidding,” Seifer says, and his voice is husky – Rinoa can see him, a little, through the fall of her hair. Enough to see Seifer is jerking himself off while he watches.

“He likes that it’s – ah –” Rinoa shivers and grabs hard at Squall’s head, angling it just right to get the pressure where she wants it.

“Oh, I know what he likes.” Seifer gives a darkly amused laugh. “You taste like him.”

Rinoa likes the sudden change from the deep penetrating thrusts to the stimulation on her clit, and it never takes her long to come this way. She does, twice – and the second time she realizes she’s not the only one, she can hear Seifer’s harsh breathing and looks over to see his hand working his cock, fist twisting over the head as he comes.

She could probably make herself come again just from seeing that, but she’s exhausted and totally worn out. Squall moves off her to lie between her and Seifer, gasping for breath – and she watches with a grin as he reaches up and pulls Seifer down to kiss him before Seifer’s own breathing has come close to evening out. Now he tastes like both of them, and for some reason, that seems right, exactly like it should.

Rinoa yawns, turning and pressing herself against Squall simply to cool off.

On the other side, Seifer does the exact same thing.

“You’re like a cold shower,” Rinoa says, snuggling up. She can barely keep her eyes open.

“That’s just what any guy wants to hear after a threesome,” Seifer says, flinging an arm over Squall. It’s pressed against the one Rinoa has around him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Squall sighs and his body gets a little cooler to the touch. “You two are like warm, sticky furnaces.”

“His career in porn is ruined before it even begins,” Seifer says, all mock-sadness.

“I think I did a pretty good job here tonight,” Squall intones, deadpan, like he’s filling out a mission report.

Rinoa laughs, and she hears Seifer’s snort, and then she closes her eyes. Squall’s contentment settles around her own like a soft warm blanket, and perfectly happy, she drifts off to sleep.

***

Seifer wakes up, taking in his surroundings; he’s naked in a king-size bed, sort of under the covers, a body pressed up against his own. He has a face full of dark hair, and he’d think it was Squall if not for the fact the body isn’t cold but warm, and is a bit softer than what he’s used to.

It’s been a long time since he’s woken up with a naked woman pressed against him, and his arm around her holding her close. He waits, but there are no bad memories, no panic, because it’s Rinoa. She might be an all-powerful sorceress but she’s not a threat. He lays there, thinking about this and the implications of what it might mean. His cock definitely thinks about the implications, and he shifts a little, not quite ready to get anywhere near that line.

She wakes up slowly, wriggling in his arms – not helping – and then moves and turns so she’s facing him. Her eyes are still closed, and she edges closer. She’s warm and soft and snuggly, and he’s not freaking out at all. Seifer grins evilly and says, “Morning, Princess.”

Her eyes open and she blinks up at him. Once she’s figured out he’s not Squall, her expression is fucking _priceless._ He cracks up laughing as she makes an affronted noise and yanks the covers over her head.

“Do I look that bad when I first wake up, Rin? Squall’s hair looks like, ten times worse right out of bed than mine does.”

She peeks over the sheet and says, “I’m so sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to do that!”

It occurs to him that she’s worried about him, which makes him roll his eyes and feel _slightly_ bad about teasing her. Still. It’d totally been worth it. “I’m fine. Really.”

She lowers the sheet from her face and scooches a little closer. He has a moment where he worries because Squall is conspicuously absent and he doesn’t know what the post-threesome rules are for this kind of thing.

“You want to do it again and make sure?”

“You weren’t satisfied after the sixteen times you got off last night?”

She makes a face at him. “Cuddling, Seifer. I meant cuddling.”

Well, at least she can actually use the word. And he does want to, but admitting it isn’t his style. Still, she’s trying to respect his boundaries so he’s basically going to have to just own up and say yes. “Yeah. But, uh. Can you check with our boyfriend, ‘cause he might not be cool with naked cuddling.”

“Aw. You love him so much, look at you. And you pretend he annoys you.”

“That’s not pretending, Princess. He annoys me all the time.” He waits, watching as her eyes go vacant and she communicates with the absent Squall.

She smiles a little. “His exact instructions were, _it’s fine, but if you want to sit on his face, you have to wait until I’m back to see._ He literally thought this while helping Laguna draft a statement about their relationship. Wow.”

“He can’t say cuddling, but he can say that.” Seifer lifts his arm and Rinoa slides in close, her back to his chest. He keeps his arm around her, pressed against the warmth of her breasts. “Huh.”

She looks over her shoulder. “This is like being snuggled by Ifrit.”

Seifer flashes her a grin. “I’m hot, what can I say?”

“Literally. And you’re so…there’s so much of you.” She makes an embarrassed squeaking sound when Seifer throws his head back and laughs.

“I’m telling Squall you said that,” he teases. And then, “But you’re not wrong.”

She’s looking at him, and then…she smiles. It’s a sweet smile, one he hasn’t seen from her in a long time unless she’s directing it at someone else. “Hi, Seifer. I missed you.”

He goes still, because he knows what she means. He’s acting like his old self, the one who wasn’t broken into a thousand jagged pieces by a failed dream and an evil witch. He tries to shrug it off, only a little successful. “You say that now, sure.”

She pats him on the arm and they’re quiet for a minute. Seifer turns his next question over and over in his head, wondering if he should ask or let it go. In the end, he realizes he’s kind of afraid of asking and what she’ll do…so of course, that’s what makes him open his mouth. “Can you…the bond. You felt it before and it freaked you out. Is that happening now?”

“No, not at all.” Her eyes search his. “Did you want me to do something?”

He nods, but he doesn’t know how to ask. “What’s it feel like?”

“Right now?” She turns in his arms so they’re facing each other, then reaches out and places a hand gently on his chest. She closes her eyes and he feels her go tense, but he doesn’t know if it’s a bad reaction or if this is normal. Eventually she opens her eyes and pushes her hair out of her face. “It’s still there. There’s this…broken thing, it’s like….oh, I’m not sure this makes sense but it’s this emptiness, really, in your aura. Where something was and isn’t, anymore.”

“Like a hole?” he asks, a little amused. Hyne. No wonder her and Squall get along. He uses no words, she uses a thousand where one will do.

 _YOU. TALK._ He can almost _hear_ Fu saying that.

“Kinda? But it’s sharp, I guess. Like a geode, you know, those stones where the crystals are all sharp but it’s still kind of hollow?”

“You’re not going to be teaching the next class of SeeDs about magic are you? Because you might want to work on your metaphors.”

She smacks him on the shoulder. Hard, too. “I don’t know any other way to describe it, but it’s like something got pulled out so quickly that it ripped the edges of whatever was holding it in place.”

He supposes that makes sense. “It feels sometimes like sticking my tongue in a tooth with a hole and a cavity that hasn’t been filled.”

“Yes! That. That’s exactly it, good job.” She brushes the few strands of his hair that forever fall into his face back, and he feels the lightest scrape of nails against his scalp. “How does it feel if you stick your tongue in it right now?”

“If there was a god, he would have sent Squall through the door the second you said that,” Seifer says, but he closes his eyes and lets himself go to the place he tries to avoid, the – geode, hole, cavity-infected tooth, whatever –where his bond used to be.

The empty thing is still there, a gaping maw in his head if he concentrates. “It’s still there. Same as ever.”

“When I hugged you, I felt your bond and it felt bad, but it doesn’t, not now. I think it’s probably that you were having a flashback, you know, PTSD-style, when I hugged you and _that_ made the bond feel bad to me. Right now it feels fine. You seem a little stiff, but – Seifer, seriously, you asked for my help here.”

“Still miss me?” Seifer asks, rubbing his hand over her hair like he’s being an annoying older brother, except maybe not that, considering they’re both naked in bed together. “So hugging you doesn’t make me freak out and then the bond doesn’t feel as bad to you.”

“Seems like it.” She chews on her lip, and she’s got to be the _worst_ poker player because she’s looking at him like she so obviously wants something.

He sighs. “What is it.”

“Can I just try something?”

“Could you be a _little_ more specific, sorceress?” Even that joke doesn’t bother him. She’s a sorceress but she’s still _Rinoa._ He just watched Squall make her come like fourteen times last night. And despite their history and the things he did to her, he knows – he can _feel_ – she doesn’t mean him harm.

“I think I can help. The empty place, I mean.”

Seifer does sit up at that, staring down at her with an expression that isn’t angry but is closer than he wants to be right now. “I ain’t interested in being nobody’s knight anymore, Rin. Even yours.”

“I already have a Knight, thank you, Seifer. And I don’t think it even works that way, but…I still think I can help you.”

He doesn’t want her to. He doesn’t like feeling her magic, though the few times he felt it last night it was all right because he was getting off and that makes things a lot more pleasant.

_Not always._

A curl of bad memories and there it is, a little throb like a toothache. Which is a way better comparison than a fucking geode. He’s not even sure what that _is_ , really, but like hell is he admitting that.

“Seifer.” She takes his face in her hands. “You can say no. You can _always_ say no. I will never use magic on you without permission unless it’s to save your life, or turn you into a Tonberry Card if you hurt Squall in a bad way.”

“He’s really not into pain,” Seifer mutters, then grumbles something and shoves her hands away. He’s a contrary motherfucker, and surely she knows that by now. “Okay, fine. As long as this doesn’t mean I have to hear you tell me about the fucking calendar in my head.”

“Hyne, though, it would solve every scheduling problem,” she teases, then her expression goes serious. “Of course it won’t. Believe me, I don’t want you in my head, either. At least Squall’s quiet.”

That startles a short bark of laughter out of him, but he nods and she places her hand on his chest again. “You gotta do that or are you just feeling me up?”

“The sorceress’s ways are her own and not for you to know,” Rinoa intones. “Now be quiet.”

He’s quiet, and it seems like nothing is happening. So much so that he almost tells her to forget about it, but then he does feel something – a gentle rush like someone pouring water over his head. It’s nice, it doesn’t hurt, but he’s not sure what the point is.

“Seifer, just trust me.” She pats his chest. “Before you ask, no, I’m not reading your mind. You’re impatient.”

He sticks his tongue out at her, which she can’t see because she’s doing her magical mystical whatever to him. It feels like water, and it’s relaxing enough that his eyes slide closed, and with a little shove he lets her guide him to his back on the bed.

She strokes her hand down his chest and over his scars; even the suggestion of nails makes him want to panic but no, it’s fine, it’s just Rinoa. She’s not doing much but magically bathing him, which is nicer than it sounds and feels pretty good. Behind his eyes he can see a rippling blue light fading to white, like a Holy spell.

Suddenly he can feel it _there,_ in that place where his bond used to be. He sucks in a breath and feels her recoil for a second, but it doesn’t stop and her hand is warm over his heart, and the magic isn’t filling up a hole as much as it seems to be smoothing out those jagged edges, a swirl of light and color and good intentions.

 _This is what it would have been like,_ he thinks, while she does it. _If I had been a Knight for a Sorceress, not a pawn and a weapon for a witch._

“Seifer,” Rinoa asks, her voice sounding strange, low and throbbing with the magic that is hers and Hyne’s and a thousand other women’s through time. “What color do you see when you think about your geode?”

“It’s not a geode, but it’s a tooth and it’s – black,” Seifer says, surprised, because teeth are not black unless you are in need of a new one.

“What color do you see this magic as?”

“Light blue,” he says. “Kinda like that sweater you always wore during the war.”

“Okay. Can you just…imagine your broken tooth turning blue?”

This is, of course, when Squall comes in. He stands in the doorway, leaning against it, dressed in his favorite leathers and his expression unreadable.

Seifer wonders how this looks, him on his back and Rinoa leaning over him, naked, her hand on his chest asking about metaphorical magic wounds and color themes. Squall just shrugs. To be fair he is used to weirder things.

Seifer imagines it and it’s harder than he thought, because he’s now picturing an actual tooth when the thing never really had a shape before. He tries a geode, but he’s still not sure what that is so it doesn’t work, either. In the end he just pictures blackness filling slowly up with water, and that seems to do the trick.

She pulls her hand away and waits. Seifer examines it for a minute, the broken thing inside of him. He knows it’s still there, that despite her attempts it always will be. And he still thinks it’s the price he should pay for the things he did in his Sorceress’s name.

But for the first time he thinks that maybe it doesn’t have to hurt.

“It does feel different,” he admits. It’s smoother, less painful. “Rinoa was fixing my broken bond geode with her sappy water magic,” Seifer says, to Squall.

“I was hoping to see her riding your face, but whatever works.” Squall walks over and sits on the bed. “What’s a geode?”

Seifer laughs. He’s not quite sure that he’s fixed, or that Rinoa did anything lasting, but he does feel better. It might be the simple fact that she cared enough to try in the first place, and that he felt he deserved to let her.

“Come tell us about your meeting,” Rinoa says, shifting over and patting the bed.

“And do it with less clothing,” Seifer adds. They might as well take advantage of this bed while they have it. He’s not sure he’s quite ready to fuck Rinoa or anything, but he owes Squall a facial. And he doesn’t need a single drop of magic to feel perfectly okay about _that._

***

Because he’s lazy, Seifer takes a few days to unpack from their trip. When he does, he sees something he forgot about, what with all the sex and the memories that have been damn distracting.

When he sees it, he grins and sits down with his phone. He finds the damn calendar Rinoa set up, then clicks over to the following Tuesday and sets up an event for 7 pm. He invites Squall and Rinoa both, then waits.

A few seconds later, he gets an email from Rinoa.

_From:[heartillyr@balamb.garden.org](mailto:heartillyr@balamb.garden.org)_

_To:[almasys@balamb.garden.org](mailto:almasys@balamb.garden.org)_

_Subject: FW: Seifer Almasy has invited you to an event!_

_______

_Seifer!!! Really??_

_____Forwarded text______

_Seifer Almasy has invited you to the following event:_

_3some (SA’s Place)_

_Click here to RSVP_

_______

Grinning, he hits _Reply._

_From:[almasys@balamb.garden.org](mailto:almasys@balamb.garden.org)_

_To:[heartillyr@balamb.garden.org](mailto:heartillyr@balamb.garden.org) _

_Subject: Re: FW: Seifer Almasy has invited you to an event!_

_Get your mind out of the gutter, Heartilly. I thought we could have a movie night. I figured it’s the only way I’m gonna get Squall to watch it. Don’t tell him._

________

_Seifer!!! Really??_

_____Forwarded text______

_Seifer Almasy has invited you to the following event:_

_3some (SA’s Place)_

_Click here to RSVP_

_______

Proving she never does any work, her reply is nearly instantaneous.

_____

  _From:[heartillyr@balamb.garden.org](mailto:heartillyr@balamb.garden.org) _

_To:[almasys@balamb.garden.org](mailto:almasys@balamb.garden.org)_

_Subject: Re: Re: FW: Seifer Almasy has invited you to an event!_

_I’ll bring the popcorn xoxo_

_< 3 R_

______

_Get your mind out of the gutter, Heartilly. I thought we could have a movie night. I figured it’s the only way I’m gonna get Squall to watch it. Don’t tell him._

________

_Seifer!!! Really??_

_____Forwarded text______

_Seifer Almasy has invited you to the following event:_

_3some (SA’s Place)_

_Click here to RSVP to the event._

____

_To:[Almasys@balamb.garden.org](mailto:Almasys@balamb.garden.org)_

_From:[calendar@shareware.com](mailto:calendar@shareware.com)_

_THIS IS AN AUTOMATED RESPONSE TO YOUR EVENT._

_The following invitees have RSVP’d to your event, 3some (SA’s Place)_

_[heartillyr@balamb.garden.org](mailto:heartillyr@balamb.garden.org) _

_[leonharts@balamb.garden.org](mailto:leonharts@balamb.garden.org) _

_Please do not respond to this email message._

_______

Seifer laughs. That’s the fastest Squall’s ever responded to anything on that damn calendar.

Things might not be perfect, but they’re better than he’d thought they’d ever be when he was lying broken and discarded in the Lunatic Pandora. He remembers leaving Balamb Garden after his pardon, thinking all that waited for him was an existence in which he was reminded of his failures at every turn. Now he can feel Griever warm against his chest, see Rinoa’s email and hear her soft voice saying _I missed you, Seifer,_ and if this is the price of failure then maybe failing wasn’t the worst thing that he could have done.

Seifer picks up the DVD and looks at the inscription, _To Sir Seifer,_ and for the first time it doesn’t feel as much like a lie as it used to.

It’s a start.


End file.
